A Familiar Face
by tiedwithblackribbon
Summary: ONE SHOT. E/C Of course. Erik takes Christine through the mirror in a desperate attempt for acceptance. No fluff. DARK with hints of Horror.


A Familiar Face

Eyes are said to be the window into the soul, but what of one's face?

Perhaps a face is only a picture into one's mind with the eyes as the interpreter... That the mind is reflected in the expressions and traits of a face. One could take it quite literal, saying that if your face was viewed as beautiful that your mind was equally as pure and as good. But, if your face ugly and distorted...does that in fact impact your mindset? Does it blacken your thoughts and tarnish every dream because of outside appearances? Do your eyes perceive distortion in the way you view the world? One does have the ability to look past the makeup of a face, seeing past it's cruelties _and_ beauty to see within.

Everyone, at some point or another, has wished for a different appearance. They feel that if their bodies and faces were beautiful that their mind would follow suit and well, that is true to some extent. Self-awareness and confidence does stem within, but it only gets stronger if the person feels beautiful on the outside. Vanity is a trait within us all whether we like or not, or if we deny it or accept it whole-heartedly. You can't change who you are or what you look like...even the soul can recognize it's true self in the midst of a _different _appearance.

Christine sat at the vanity in the corner of her dressing room. Dressed in only a thin, gauze-like wrap with her tight tendrils of curls pulled up and off of her neck, she stared into nothingness, numb from the day's events and rehearsals, just waiting...waiting for _him_. She had obeyed as the most dutiful student, not talking to anyone after the rehearsals end and certainly not entertaining anyone behind her dressing room door. No, that was reserved for only _him_. At the click of the mirror's mechanism to open she started, swallowing dryly and standing away from the sharp glass edges to let it open and reveal more black, more darkness.

Her heart was pounding. The daily trips with Erik down below never got easier for her nerves, ...not when guilt plagued upon her for cavorting around after hours with Raoul from time to time. She prayed that those eyes behind the mask had never caught her climbing into the Chagny carriage on some nights, and then again returning at light hours of the morning.

A hand stretched and reached out for her from the dark cavern and she took it with eyes lowered, afraid that such guilt would be laden within the blue depths of her eyes. Apart from not allowing her to find a more suitable and warmer coverup for her underclothes, she worried that he might see right through to her lying, deceitful games instead and then...well, she was afraid for what he might do. She only had witnessed his temper on a few occasions. The worst, of course, being the night she had stripped him of his mask.

Never had she saw so much sadness and rage in him then she did that night! It wrenched at her heart just at the thought. That face, so malformed and twisted in rage...it had haunted her dreams for many nights. Damn her curiosity! And now to have betrayed him again with a man! Though Raoul had always kept himself a gentleman! The only affections he had bestowed upon her was a kiss at the cheek and on the hand. Never with lips caressing lips, never touches that were inappropriate. Yet, she knew in her heart and in her mind that all of that _didn't _matter. Their engagement had been kept secret! He had proposed, not in the opera, but on his estate grounds one night after the opera. Erik couldn't of known! He might resemble a ghost but he couldn't be everywhere at once, could he? The fact that he, Raoul, had touched her at all was an abomination in _his_ eyes...and she fretted silently over it.

Being pulled into the awaiting black was more frightening than ever, his clasped hand strong on her wrist as he closed the mirror's doors. Now it was in total darkness that she sought him out ,fearfully edging closer to him out of instinct.

"Erik...where is your lantern? You know I don't like it when it is so dark like this!" She whimpered, feeling his grip on her tighten.

"I have no need for it, my dear...I can see perfectly well." He ignored her hesitation and tugged on her to follow, his pace growing fiercer as they made their way down.

"Erik! Why are we moving so fast! I can barely keep up with you!" She muttered with heavy breath as he continued to pull her along unceasing into the night of the cellars. "Erik, I'm afraid!"

He stopped them abruptly, pushing her to the damp stone wall behind her. She couldn't see anything and tried to muffle the gasp from her lips. But she _felt _him, felt his breath upon her neck and his eager touch at her abdomen pressing her further into the stone.

_"I have told you_, Christine...I can see just fine...why do you worry so? You are trembling, dear girl!" He chuckled under his breath, stepping closer to caress a hand over her cheek, a thumb brushing over her lips.

"I...I am afraid of the dark..._you know that_." She stammered her words, unable to ignore his cold touch at her mouth.

"Shouldn't you be more afraid of _who_ leads you into the dark, Christine? The dark itself cannot do any harm to you."

"_Oh god,_" She whimpered, her heart beating out of control and her mind spinning. She felt herself inhale a shaking breath, her mind clouding with an unbearable sense of intuition that something was not right. He wasn't his usual self; stand-offish and quiet during their trek. He was forceful, his grip powerful and causing pain. _His words._..they frightened her most of all.

_He must know, _Christine thought silently, the terror was rising in her now. The weight of Raoul's ring felt crushing upon her breast, the long gold chain hidden out view and not decipherable in the dark.

Erik pulled her from the wall even in her struggle to remain. The little gasps of fear and even a sob or two had escaped his hearing and he carried on towards the lake.

Christine called to Erik numerous time, each syllable laced with terror and a pleading. "Why do you pull me so hard and so fast? You are hurting me!" She finally cried out, the sound reaching his ears.

He pushed her hard against the stone wall again, darkness swallowing them. "Because...you are _mine_. I think that is something you need to be reminded of. The pain I cause you is nothing compared to what you have made me feel, Christine."

Something cold, liquid fell to her cheek as he loomed over her. Was it tears? Was he truly crying over her betrayal? Her heart palpated miserably, her small hands pushing at his chest as she felt his arms weave about her little waist, pulling her to him in an almost embrace.

"No! Let me go! Don't you dare touch me!"

He laughed. "Let you go? So you can die down here in the dark? Or is that what you want, Christine? To succumb to the darkness as I have, down here alone in these dank bowels of Hell that I call my home." He caught her fighting hands and pressed them to either side of her head at the wall, hearing her scream at the violent pressure his fingertips made as they dug into her flesh.

"Please, Erik...please don't hurt me...you promised you wouldn't ever hurt me!" She cried now, her screams futile and dwindling into a hoarse whisper.

"Yes, I did, didn't I...hmmm, that is too bad. I seem to recall you making promises to me as well and those have long been broken. I am only being fair, my dear...or should I say Vicomtess? I wouldn't want to rob you of such an _expensive_ title." He sneered, his nails cutting deep into her skin.

"I love him!" She cried out in a heated scream, "I will always love him! You can't take that away from me, Erik...you can do whatever you wish...but you will never separate us. He will always come for me!"

"Is that so? And why, Christine...why do you love such a milksop of a boy? Is it his bank account? Is it his grand mansions in all different parts of the world? Or is it the beauty of his handsomely flawless face? Tell me!" He put his body flush with hers and nearly took the air of her lungs from the force.

"It...it is none of those things! Beauty isn't everything! He loves me and he has a good heart! He is a good man!" She said with scarce breath, feeling him so close to her she thought she might faint.

"Oh, my little, naïve Christine...beauty is_ everything_ in this world. You don't think I know that? Of all the people on this miserable earth you should know it more than I! Why do you think he is attracted to _you_? A man like him doesn't have a reputation for bedding homely women, nor does he court young aristocrats like himself. He _wants_ an opera tart! Yes, a pretty little thing to prance around the city and show off...and then...what, Christine...did you really think he'd marry you?"

"He loves me..." She whispered, tears overflowing her eyes. Though it didn't matter...all she could see was darkness.

"Yes, he loves your innocent face...your young body..._that is all_. He could care less about your career, your music...all the passion that lies dormant in your soul to be set free. You don't know anything about love! You are just as puerile and ignorant as he is!"

"You want to twist all of this into your favor. I wont let you!"

"Ah, but Christine, I already have." He brought her hand up to graze over the mask, ridding it and hearing it shatter upon the floor.

"No! Oh, God no! Please!" She tried to pry her hands away from his grasp but he was too strong, always too strong.

"You say that faces don't matter... that beauty doesn't matter? Touch me and feel no disgust! Caress over it as you have done to _him! _Or would _his _face better suit your little hand? Your angelic graces were never meant to touch such horror as my naked face. But I can't stand by and watch you touch his without falter, with no disgust or terror in your eyes! Not any more! I am through with it all! Your little sighs of pleasure and delight when he kisses you. _That _disgusts me!"

A drop of liquid fell upon her other cheek. Was he crying again? She was shaking now in his hold, her hands held up by her eyes hovering over his scars, his breath on her fingertips.

"I've fashioned a new mask for you, my darling girl. One that is so realistic that you won't ever feel such horror again when you touch me. I am like your Victome now, touch and see!" He laughed and pressed her hands to his face.

She felt the smooth _material _of the mask, no scars protruding to her fingers or gaping hole for a nose. Her body never ceased it's trembling as she cried, allowing him to move her hands over his face to caress him.

"How does that feel Christine?" He shouted amidst his laughing.

"I...I don't know..." She said between cries, her sobs threatening to choke her.

"_Familiar_, perhaps?"

Her hands shook so badly that she forced them back away from him, his hands returning to her bruised wrists to put her fingers back at his face.

"Stop this!" She cried out, her knees giving out beneath her.

"Feel me!" He screamed at her, pressing her down to the ice cold stone beneath them. "Your touch feels so exquisite!"

"No! Stop this madness, Erik!" Her voice was becoming shrill and hoarse, her vocal chords strained. Her fingers moved over the mask by his force, smearing the same cold liquid onto her nails and fingertips from the rough edges of the mask.

"Erik...what...what is this?" She cried hard in his grasp, a new terror welling up inside of her so much that she thought she would die of it. "What have you done?" A trickle of the cool liquid dropped onto her lips and she couldn't help but taste it as a droplet slid into her mouth. _Blood._

Her screams were non existent, her mouth open and no sound emerging. She felt her eyes close involuntarily, her limbs weakening as he held on to her.

"It's exactly what you think it is, my dear...aren't you pleased? Now I can be handsome for you! Now you can love me! Although I can't say the same for your dear boy. The tables have turned, Christine...I am handsome for you now, so you must love me!"

She felt herself slip into unconsciousness, Erik's hands coming beneath her to lift her from the ground.

_Raoul..._


End file.
